Oddly, Yama smiled and seemed to relax. “Excellent,” he remarked cryptically.
“What puzzles me is why the Technics would establish a research station in Green Bay,” Plato said. “What does the University of Wisconsin have to offer that the Technics don’t already have in Technic City? They adulate technology and science. Their own research facilities must be some of the best on the planet.”
“I wish I could answer that,” Andrew said. “But no one has a clue as to what those slime are up to.”
“If you think they’re slime, why did you deal with them?” Blade asked.
Andrew shrugged. “I couldn’t afford to be choosy. The Technics could supply clothes, tools, kerosene, matches, and a whole lot of other stuff that was hard to come by otherwise.”
“You still haven’t told us how your wife and daughter are in danger,” Blade noted.
The farmer’s shoulders sagged. “They’ve disappeared.”
“Explain,” Blade said.
“About a month after the Technic scientist arrived, people began to vanish. At first, no one wanted to believe the reports. When some of the folks living in the city disappeared, and the stories started circulating, everyone assumed the missing persons had left because they didn’t want to be anywhere near the creepy scientist. Then more and more people vanished into thin air. City folks. Indians. And even some of my neighbors.”
“Didn’t anyone do anything?” Blade asked.
“What could we do? We had three choices. We could march up to the barbed-wire fence and demand to know what was going on, in which case the Technics would have shot us. We could pack our belongings and get the hell out of there. Or we could stay and hope for the best,” Andrew said.
“Most of my neighbors were in the same boat I was in. We had too much invested in our property to run off.”
“How many persons have disappeared, all told?” Blade inquired.
“As near as I could guess, and bear in mind this was three weeks ago, over thirty people have vanished without a trace.”
“What happened to your wife and daughter?”
Andrew slumped into the pillows, his sorrow self-evident. “Three weeks ago, about an hour before sunset, a neighbor’s son rode over to our place and let me know that his dad had busted a leg. My neighbor, Ed, had fallen off a ladder while cleaning a gutter on his house. He needed someone to help set the broken bones, so I rode over with the son.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Two hours later, when I got home, no one was there. Sandra and Nadine weren’t anywhere to be found.
Everything in our house was in perfect order. None of the furniture was disturbed, and there was no sign of a struggle. Supper was simmering on the stove. I scoured our house from the attic to the basement, but my wife and daughter had disappeared.”
Blade crossed his arms on his chest, the corners of his mouth curling downward. He could sympathize with the farmer. If anything ever happened to his beloved Jenny and little Gabe, he’d be devastated.
“I went crazy,” Andrew went on. “I called my neighbors together and we searched every square inch of my farm. No one found a clue. But I knew it had to have been the Technics who were responsible. I wanted to go to the University and demand to see the man in charge, but my friends talked me out of the idea. They told me that I’d be committing suicide, that it wouldn’t help Sandra and Nadine one bit.” He fell silent, his eyes moistening.
“Take your time,” Plato said. “We can wait.”
Andrew cleared his throat. “There’s not too much left to tell. I was frantic. I tried to organize my friends and the Indians to go after my wife and daughter, but they wouldn’t agree. They were scared. I can’t say as I blame them.”
“When did you decide to come here?” Blade queried. “Four days after Sandra and Nadine vanished, I saddled up my mare, packed all the supplies I figured I’d need, and lit out. All went well until seven days ago. A band of scavengers ambushed me. My mare was killed and I barely got away with my life. I decided to keep going, no matter what. And here I am,” Andrew concluded.
“Back up a bit,” Blade said. “Why did you decide to come to the Home? Why us?”
“Because I’d heard stories about how the Family had tangled with with the damn Technics and won. A Warrior reportedly killed the Technic Minister and his First Secretary. Technic City was in turmoil for weeks. I first heard about it from a drunk at a tavern.”
“Where did he hear the story?”
“From some Technic soldiers who had stopped there to wet their whistles,” Andrew replied. “Naturally, when my wife and daughter were taken, when I desperately needed aid, I thought of the Family. You’re the only ones I know of who have ever beaten the Technics. Everyone else is too afraid to take the bastards on.”
“What do you want us to do?” Blade asked.
“Let your Warriors come to Green Bay with me. Help me find Sandra and Nadine.”
Blade lowered his arms. “Your wife and daughter have been missing for three weeks. As difficult as it might be to accept, they could be dead by now.”
“They could still be alive,” Andrew said, his voice strained. “I believe they are. Call it wishful thinking if you want, but deep down inside I know Sandra and Nadine haven’t been killed. Yet.”
“You ask a lot of us,” Blade stated softly.
“I don’t have anyone else I can turn to,” Andrew responded plaintively.
“You’re my last hope.”
“I say we go,” Yama unexpectedly declared.
Blade glanced at his fellow Warrior. “The decision is mine to make, not yours.”
“I know,” Yama said. “I mean no disrespect. And if you decide not to assist him, then I’d like to request a leave of absence so I can return to Green Bay with him.”
“You’d do that for me?” Andrew blurted.
Yama looked at the farmer. “For both of us.”
“I don’t understand,” Andrew said, puzzled by the intensity of Yama’s expression.
“First things first,” Plato interjected authoritatively. “Blade and I must discuss your appeal.”
“Whatever you want,” the farmer stated.
Plato headed for the doorway. “Blade, would you join me outside?”
“In a minute,” Blade responded. He faced Yama. “I know what you went through, but I’m not about to let you go traipsing off by yourself. A Warrior should never allow his actions to be dominated by his emotions.
You know as well as I do that going into combat with your head clouded by hatred will make you careless. And carelessness can make you dead.”
“I don’t hate them.”
“Oh? You could have fooled me. If it isn’t hatred, then it’s the next best thing.”
Andrew shifted on the cot. “What is this all about?”
“None of your business,” Yama snapped.
“Oh.”
“See what I mean?” Blade queried. “You wouldn’t last ten seconds.”
“Have I ever failed to perform my duties properly?” Yama asked earnestly.
“No. But there’s always a first time.”
“At least give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“I won’t stand by and let you kill yourself.”
“Fair enough. But if you decide to go, and I expect you will, I’d like to go along,” Yama said. “You know how much this means to me. If the situation were reversed, if it had happened to you, you’d be the first one over the drawbridge.”
Blade went to reply, then changed his mind. Yama had a valid point.
“I’ll think about it,” he offered, and strode from the infirmary.
Plato stood 20 feet off, his countenance troubled, absently tugging at his beard. He looked up as the giant approached, and sighed. “You have to go. You know that, don’t you?”